


Transfusion

by Apelpsia



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apelpsia/pseuds/Apelpsia
Summary: “A doctor can heal everyone except themselves.”
Kudos: 5





	Transfusion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [0XBloodRoseX0](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=0XBloodRoseX0).



trans·fu·sion  
/ˌtran(t)sˈfyo͞oZHən/  
noun  
an act of transferring donated blood, blood products, or other fluid into the circulatory system of a person or animal.

She stood over the cot in the cold night, the bright hospital lights contrasting a strange red power emanating from her hands as she slowly resuscitated the man. She was different somehow, different than the rest of the medical staff in the hospital. They didn’t have this, this burden placed on them, and yet, they always complained about how difficult their jobs were. If she had her way, she would’ve never had this in the first place. 

After being satisfied that the man was back to perfect condition, the red light faded away and she put her gloves back on. They fit snugly around her hands, and with a tired sigh, sat down on a nearby chair and began to fill out a checklist on the status of the patient. It was just another night, just another person to take care of. She stood up after doing so, and dimmed the lights, closing the door behind her as she left the room.

She walked down the halls and turned the list in to her supervisor who nodded to her. “Take a break, Miss Rose. You’ve been busy all night.” She nodded tiredly and continued to stroll the halls once again. 

Ordinarily, an average person wouldn’t be tired from just working all night. After all, what really was the difference between the day and night shift, besides the time? But it wasn’t the case with her, as her burden made it so that she grew more and more tired with each and every patient she treated.

She sat down and rubbed her eyes, having taken her gloves off to do so. Her gloves. They contained her power and burden because without them, she couldn’t control it. The one time she had let go had quite devastating effects. She still hadn’t shaken the memory of that time, and was convinced it was her fault, no matter how much everyone spoke the opposite.

She started to yawn but quickly suppressed it after a brief moment. It appeared as though she was more tired than she outwardly expressed. She glanced at the clock and sighed again. It would seem that it would be quite a while before she got to go home. Well, that was something to be grateful for, some people didn’t have homes. She would know, she’d been there herself.

Within a flash, a half an hour passed like that. She stood up, stretching for a moment as she did so. She walked back, no sign of the fatigue that appeared on her only a few minutes before. She breathed in deeply and asked for her next assignment, which just so happened to be a man on the next floor.

She walked there and entered the room, hearing small, repetitive beeps as the monitor tracked his heartbeat. She slipped her white as snow gloves off and placed them on the table. Her hands started to glow a dim red once more and she started to heal the man, slowly but surely. In a way, it was as if she was taking his injuries and putting it into herself.

As she finished, she put her gloves back on and sighed, feeling an empty void in her heart. She felt so tired. Using her burden drained her energy and willpower and on some days, she didn’t know if she wanted to continue on. Or if she could, but she did what she always did, putting one foot in front of the other until she finished what she needed to do.

The burden brought all their pain away from them to her, and it took all of her to not collapse on the cold hospital floor when she did so. She felt a ringing in her head, like something was pounding her head with a hammer.

At the end of the night, she walked home and opened the door. It was a large, lonely place, filled to the brim with pictures and memories of days long past. Now finally in the safety of her own home, she knelt on the floor and started to weep, empty glass tears falling down her face.

Does anyone care for me like I care for them? Am I worth the pain that I cause everyone? Am I worth anything for that matter? All of these words she thought in silence, yet none of them made it into the choked sobs that left her throat. 

She sat like that for a long time, the sun coming up and warming her with its touch. Yet she still felt cold inside, cold and empty like a grave for a person who drowned underneath the waves. Not that she would know, she had never seen the ocean. She imagined it was an endless expanse of blue, but it was only her imagination.

From behind her, someone silently descended the staircase, in so that she couldn’t hear them. They approached her quietly and put their arms around her, pulling her in their warm embrace. “What’s wrong, Rose?”

She tried to shake off the man’s embrace, but it only grew ever so slightly tighter. “N-nothing’s wrong… I’m n-not crying!” The sobs which racked her body convinced him otherwise. “I’m just tired is all. I think you know why.”

The man, who seemed to be her peer, took her hands. He was a rather graceful being, not strong and large, but rather lean and lithe, like a dancer. Slipping her gloves off, he lay them to the side. He held her hands in his, not caring of the consequences. “Who said anything about crying?” 

He remained silent for a few moments and breathed in deeply, moving to the front of her. “This world is making you tired isn’t it? All this hard work and for what? Getting food on the table? Slowly snuffing out your inner fire? Wasting your soul away?” He paused again, and then resumed. “You deserve everything, everything this world can’t give you.”

He intertwined his hands with hers, seeing the red flush to her face for a brief few moments. He didn’t comment on it, yet a small smile came to his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in, feeling everything leaving him. His happiness, his joy… until it all stopped. He was in a state of equilibrium, always happy, yet keenly aware of his sadness and anger.

He pulled away from her who had a look of childish wonder in her eyes. She felt alive, happy; she hadn’t felt this way in what seemed like an eternity. She turned towards him and embraced him tightly. She whispered in a happy voice, tears falling down her cheeks, this time now of joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

He rubbed her hair affectionately, an abnormally sad look in his eyes. He wasn’t used to feeling as if he wasn’t on a high, but he could live with out it. He wasn’t as sad as she was initially, but he wasn’t as happy either. “It’s not a problem. I said I’d always be here for you, doing anything to help you. I intend to keep my promises.” He smiled softly as he put on her gloves in a locked box. “You don’t need those again do you?”

She shook her head gently. “No, not when I’m with you.” He was her anchor, that kept her grounded, that let her know that she wanted, noticed. And now he had made the sacrifice no one wanted to, his happiness for hers. “I-I can’t ever repay you for this.”

He smiled again, not the bright smile that usually appeared on his face, but a subdued one that showed his emotions in a thousand subtle fashions. “You don’t need to. I just have one request.” He chuckled quietly as he saw her nod rather energetically. “Promise me, you’ll never leave me alone.”

She looked up at him with a confident look in her eyes. The fire inside her had been reignited, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. “I promise.”


End file.
